I Am Still Walking
by Gaillen's Mirror
Summary: [See, Rose. You can be proud. I am still walking.] It was so long, long ago. Why couldn't the pain simply end? We cried. We lost. And yet...somehow...we keep walking. [Implied MartinRose]


Disclaimer: _Characters created by Brian Jacques and copyrighted to Redwall Abbey Co. LTD._

A/N: _It seems that I have fallen into a rather whimsical mood lately. Which this is fine in itself, however couple that with the fact that I'm just so bored. I've currently become rather disenchanted with life. The comings and goings. Work, home, and personal study, are just altogether boring with no variation from the Norm. The only salvation being that of sleep. _

_And I needed a break from my current projects so I write this tidbit. Can be used as a sequel to "In Favor of Tears" but is meant to 'stand alone'. A part of my little series of angst stories that feature Martin/Rose. I will eventually get around to writing one with Matthias/Cornflower and some other couples from the Redwall Books but not now. _

_As a **Warning**: I am not sure what the purpose of this story is but for the obvious reason of variation and disgruntled embitterment. I am positive the storyline travels all over the paper and it makes no sense at all. At least to me it doesn't. Also I believe I was testing a new form of writing but I do not think I will use it often as it is most difficult to pen in this format from this perspective. Besides I do not think I enjoy the way it paints the character. _

_Ah well, reviews will be most appreciated but all in all enjoy yourselves._

**I Am Still Walking**

How long had it been? How long ago was it that he had started walking? It had been a long time. No, it couldn't be measured. Not days, nor months, nor years.

It had been a long time.

So long, long ago. But still the pain persisted. He could no longer remember being without it, but he knew…he knew that it was what caused him to keep walking.

_**Away.**_

To escape…

From what?

From memories, memories of **_her_**. **_Her_** face,** _her_** beautiful voice, **_her_** kindness, _**her**_ smell. It was suddenly hard to breathe and hard to keep placing one paw in front of the other. But he kept walking, because it was all he knew anymore.

He kept walking.

And crying. **_Silently_**.

No one could see them, the tears. They were hidden, oh so well hidden.

By Time.

By Honor.

By a Warrior's Pride.

How long had it been?

How long since…**_she _**left him? A name balanced on his tongue but he couldn't speak it. The sweet spring air, suddenly tasted bitter. The cheerful forest sounds, suddenly sounded sinister. The way ahead, taunting, and the way behind, gone.

Into the past.

Ancient History.

No longer there. So…he kept walking…forward. Ahead.

Why? **_She_** wasn't there, ahead. Why?

Because **_she _**wasn't there, behind, either.

Gone.

Time heals all wounds. Why wasn't time healing this one? Why did time torment this already tortured soul of his? Why didn't it heal the wound in his heart? The wound that was killing him dead.

_Dead, dead, dead_.

How long had it been?

Too long. So long, long ago.

And still he kept walking. Changing seasons, changing land, changing _**life**._

He kept walking. Through them all. His heart no longer enchanted by the seasons, by the land, by life.

A name, a name. A name that tasted like sweet nectar but left a soured aftertaste. **_Her _**name.

His stomach grumbled but he felt no hunger and his empty sack provided no means. Just as well. He'll eventually have to find food, but not now. His eyes, brown like autumn leaves, watched without interest as the land changed. His eyes, dark…no, no, no brown…saw **_her_**. His ears heard **_her_**. His nose smelt **_her_**.

A break in the strong façade.

The farce over…ended.

He cried.

Out loud.

Alone.

A name, must have a name. Any name. **_Her _**name.

"Laterose!"

Breaking from his endless trek, he collapsed sobbing against a rocky outcropping and he sat crying. Still there. The pain still there.

So long, long ago. His eyes, blurred by tears, looked and saw. A single flower. White with orange fingers stretching down into the heart.

Rose.

On a bush.

Alone.

Silent encouragement. Renewal of determination. Some flower's bloomed dead, some flower's bloomed gaily and some…some bloomed alone. In a silent affirmation that they were strong and sturdy, but alone. And in need.

A smile.

Like him.

Strong, sturdy, alone and in need.

Just like him.

He understood and the smile grew.

"See, Rose. You can be proud. I am still walking."

How long had it been?

Not so long ago, but that was fine.

He had learned to accept it.

He wasn't running away anymore.

So, Martin kept walking.


End file.
